I feel hollow and anchorless.
You say
I’m not always good at seeing
my own abilities.
Then your arms embrace me tightly
and you pull me against you
like I’m inside a jar of love,
lid sealed snugly.
The warmth from your chest
against my back and spine,
filling my emptiness
with your aliveness.
I study your left arm
around my waist,
mesmerized.
The glow
of your hiking tan.
The landscape
of your natural muscles.
Every detail
so soothingly familiar.
Soft hairs on your lower arm
scribble
a love letter
in unknowable language.